


A Flying Honeymoon

by figmentera



Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Character, F/M, and Marriage of Convenience, everybody gets time to talk, this is somewhere between, with a touch of crack treated seriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21525664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/figmentera/pseuds/figmentera
Summary: Agatha and Gil get a chance to finish one crucial conversation without interruption.
Relationships: Agatha Heterodyne/Gilgamesh Wulfenbach, Gilgamesh Wulfenbach & Klaus Wulfenbach
Comments: 30
Kudos: 119





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Frank Sinatra's Come Fly With Me, because Ruelle's cover of it was on repeat while I was writing this.   
> I welcome all concrit and suggestions!

The Queen was dead, and Agatha had time to admire her utilitarian and yet, somehow, lovely ring, so she wasn’t paying much attention when Gilgamesh moved on to something else. At first, she was barely listening as he talked about his father being busy with the bugs, but she looked up as he mentioned smaller airships, confused. And then she heard “We should be able to get married before he catches us!” and she was left feeling like she’d missed more of the conversation than she was aware of. Perhaps _several_ conversations.

“Um— _what_?”

“Don’t worry, he won’t be mad when he finds out you’re a spark!” Gil reassured her, which did not target the heart of her concern, or really any of its vital organs. “He’s talking about marrying me off anyway, serve him right if I run off and do it on my own!”

He looked so extremely sincere. He looked adorable, honestly, but that was a passing thought beside how ludicrous it was that he was so _serious_ about this, when he hadn’t even hinted at it until now. She was laughing before she even considered what the right reaction was, and it was probably partly leftover glee at victory, but there it was. This laughter was harder than she ever remembered laughing before, hard enough that last week she would’ve broken down in a headache immediately. Now, she could laugh her fill and come out of it smiling to tell him “That was the worst proposal I’ve ever heard!”

“You get a lot of them?” he asked, in a very small voice, which she mostly ignored, lest she start laughing again.

“You want to marry me to annoy your father? How romantic.” And quite a lifetime commitment to rush into for such a petty reason, she almost added. But it seemed too weighty to even bring up, now. Besides, she was sure he had other reasons for proposing. Even if he hadn’t actually _said_ any of them yet.

“No, no, _no_ ,” he said, looking incredibly serious again. “I know we haven’t known each other very long, but I think we’d be very well suited.”

Still not quite a passionate declaration of love, but then again… He could actually support this statement. She’d be inclined to doubt any commitments to eternal love, after less than a week. “And I _really_ want you to stay safe,” he continued. “Without any connections of your own, being tied to my father is about as good as you can get, now you’ve got the Spark.”

She’d intended to keep this light, but— “Really? Are you sure about that? Everywhere I turn I see a new reason to doubt his intentions! Why should I believe I’d survive any longer here than just… walking into the Wastelands, after Beetle, Othar, _and_ Dr. Vapnoople.”

Gil had the nerve to look hurt. “Those were exceptions!” he said. “Like I said, there are perfectly good reasons for all of those, if you’d just _trust_ me!”

“Well, I don’t have a lot of reason to do that, if you just keep telling me everything’s fine when it clearly isn’t!”

He turned away and paced a little bit, coming back looking nervous and rubbing his head. “Would you listen, if I tried to explain?” he asked.

“Oh, you had _better_ try, if you expect me to stick around at _all_.”

“Okay. Yeah. I— Technically, I’m not supposed to talk about any of this, but I mean, you just saved my life, and…” He trailed off, eyeing her for a moment. She wondered if he was going to say something sentimental, but he picked up again on a logical thread. “I mean, I met you at TPU, you were an assistant there. You must know how dangerous Sparks can be, if they’re inclined towards it. I don’t know what you’ve heard about Vapnoople, or how, but honestly, the fact that he’s still _alive_ , in any state at all, is a mercy he didn’t deserve after his experiments.”

Agatha squinted at that. Krosp wasn’t dangerous, except insofar as any thinking being could choose to be dangerous. And the stuffed bears weren’t dangerous, just pathetic. “I’ll want verification on that. And Othar? He’s a hero.”

“He’s _dangerous_. He believes all Sparks should be hunted down and killed.”

“That sounds highly implausible and overwrought. Are you sure you didn’t mix it up with some bad fiction?” She was teasing now, a bit. It was still easier than trying to take this all seriously. She didn’t know how he was doing it.

Gil put his hand on his forehead, wearily. “You would be surprised at how often my life could be mixed up with bad fiction. It is exhausting.”

“Ah, so that’s why you get your terrible ideas about romance. It all makes sense now.”

“Um—“ He stared at her for a second. “Are you interrogating me or teasing me? It’s very disorienting when you switch back and forth that quickly.”

“I can do both at once,” Agatha said, with great dignity. “But you’re serious about Othar wanting to kill Sparks? How does the public never hear about that part!”

“He has such good press! It would be easier to deal with him if he didn’t cast us as the _villain_ all the time. Just because my father would rather Sparks be _useful_ than dead!”

“Are you saying you aren’t a villain, then? The stage will be so disappointed.”

He flashed a grin at that, then sobered up again. “I.. I don’t know if I’ve been persuasive at all, yet. But… You haven’t gotten a chance to see my father’s merciful side yet, and for that matter I’ve been having a bad week as well. But he does have one! Even studying sparks is a form of mercy.”

“Not exactly comforting to someone who would be the subject.”

He looked distressed at that, and reached out to take her arms. “Miss Clay,” he said. “Agatha. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but… You’ll be studied one way or another, now. Female Sparks are _rare_ , and more rare recently, and nobody quite knows why. You’ll be watched, you’ll be _taken_ if someone gets the chance.” He hesitated. “I… don’t want to make it sound like you have no choice. It’s possible I could talk to the Master of Paris, or Albia, maybe… I don’t know if I have the influence, but I could try. But I’m not sure you’d like life there better. Their protection can be somewhat… conditional.”

And whatever she could say about the offer of marriage, it didn’t get much more unconditional than that. Especially considering that Gil could easily marry someone far more important than an insignificant secretary from Beetleburg. If he was asking anyway, something about her outweighed any desire for political advantage or great beauty or anything else she would’ve thought would be important. “What’s your offer, then?”

He looked taken off guard at that. “Ah… What?”

“What’s your offer? If I do marry you, what’s the plan? Logistics-wise?”

He floundered. Perhaps he didn’t expect to get this far. “Uh, well, we’d be… married. I don’t… The symbolism is the important thing, that everybody knows you’re protected, but I… Uh… I sort of don’t hate the idea of… Um… Obviously I wouldn’t want to press you into anything! Just because you kissed me earlier doesn’t mean you have to do it again, or…” He stopped. His face was about the color of the safety cautions littered all around.

“So sleeping with you isn’t a condition of the offer?” she asked, baldly. She would have been mortified by even thinking of referring to this, a week ago. Now she’d spent this long with everyone convinced she was Moloch’s lover and this felt much easier to say. Even so, she was pretty sure she was blushing almost as brightly as him. At least her voice was steady.

“No! No, certainly not— I wasn’t— I don’t even know if— We could sort that out later. Much, _much_ later. I just wanted to say…” He took a breath, and visibly calmed down. “You wouldn’t be absolutely tied to my side, is I guess what I’m getting at. As long as you’re protected, physically and symbolically, you would have freedom to roam, more so than you have now, even. I can’t speak to what role you’d have politically, not without consulting my father. Presumably status as my… Uh, consort, I guess, at minimum.”

“I want a lab,” Agatha said. “Fully equipped. With my own assistants.”

Gil blinked. “Does that mean… Does that mean you’ll do it?”

“I still want hard proof that your father had good reason for what he did to Dr. Dim. But… I’m willing to read it in the airship.”

Gil kept gaping at her. “Are you… Really?”

Agatha paused. She felt like she was floating, a little bit. Like she had just taken a running jump out of the window behind them, and it was the moment before she fell. And Gil was looking so pleased, and that shouldn’t matter to her choice but it did, it _did_ , and looking at him this felt like the best idea in the world.

“Right,” Gil said. If I tell you where the nearest short-distance dirigible hanger is, can you scout it out and get ready to steal one when I meet you there with the data?”

She grinned. “Sounds like a plan, dear.” She put a little bit of an emphasis on the last word, just to tease him, and watched as his blush bloomed crimson again across his cheeks. It was far more adorable than she'd ever be willing to admit to.

She was knee-deep in trouble, she thought, and still wading deeper. At least it was likely to be entertaining the whole way down.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually use this space to apologize for how long it's been since my last update, but hey! This is a whole new fandom! Nobody reading this had any expectations! I never made any promises! Ha-ha! 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for all your supportive comments on the first chapter that I never got around to replying to, and I hope you enjoy!

“Yes!” the strangely confident man announced, boisterously. “I have seen your daughter! She was the one to free me, this time, and as soon as we locate her, I will make her my spunky girl sidekick, to show my gratitude!"

Lilith sighed beside Adam. He glanced at her, amused. It occurred to him now that they should’ve expected these sort of heroic shenanigans to start back up as soon as Agatha lost her locket. She’d been inclined enough towards helping the downtrodden when she was one of their number. Of course that tendency would not have faded. Of course she’d run into others of the same sort.

“And you said you last saw her in the lab?” Lilith asked. “Could you get us back there? Oh, we’re so worried…” How long they could pull off looking like helpless, worried, parents, Adam had no idea, but so far the man seemed not to notice anything. In fact, Adam rather suspected he was pleased to be the expert.

“Oh, never fear, dear lady. Othar Trygvassen, Gentleman Adventurer, is here to help! I will not let her come to any harm!”

Adam squinted at him. He’d first heard of Othar Trygvassen in the years after their boys vanished, and he hadn’t thought much of the comparisons then. Now, he thought even less. Bill or Barry’s heroics could not have ever been _this_ irritating. They’d just wanted to help people. This man felt like he’d come straight off the stage of one of the more terrible Heterodyne shows and was still playing to the cheap seats.

“Indeed!” Othar continued. “There is nothing I would not do to rescue that virtuous young lady! She has her senses about her, unlike the cruel and vicious son of the Baron, that evil fiend— why, I saw her in his clutches once before, and I can only hope I am in time to rescue her before he does anything _unsavory_.”

“We hope that as well, Mr. Trygvassen,” Lilith said, eagerly. “So if we could perhaps go look, now…”

“Indeed! We will search this airship from canopy to gondola! We will not stop until we have torn it apart, seam by seam, rivet by rivet! We will bring down this foul place of treachery, and—“

Adam made eye contact with Lilith, and rolled his eyes firmly. Then he started walking forward, sidestepping Othar.

“We will grasp the root of evil at its source, and we will— Oh! Good sir, are you ready to go already? Why, we still have so much to discuss!”

Adam didn’t answer. This man would understand none of his signs and signals, except the rude ones, and Adam had no desire to burn bridges yet. Besides, ignoring the man seemed most likely to actually get things done.

He could just picture Lilith’s discreet smirk as she apologized with _just_ the right touch of humility for her husband’s impatience, saying that maybe they better follow along to keep him out of trouble, unless of course Othar had a better idea of which way they should go…

She was good at handling heroes. She had a knack for corralling them, honed over years and years of attempts to keep their boys out of trouble. They had needed so much more finesse than this man did. And indeed, Othar finally moved forward to direct them to the lab he’d been rescued from, and led them through the halls.

The alerts were getting louder and louder as they went, which was starting to make Adam uneasy. The three of them were the only people in the quarantine zone, as far as they’d seen, but in the distance they could hear faint shouts and cries beneath the sirens. And there was another sound, at the edge of Adam’s hearing, something that chittered and screamed. He began by thinking he was imagining it, but the more they moved, the more he heard it.

Then Othar opened the door to the lab he’d been leading them toward, and the unhindered scream of Wasp soldiers filled the air. Several mysteries clicked together in Adam’s brain as the nearest one lunged toward them, claws extended. Othar jumped back to avoid it, but only ran into Adam. The impact threw off his attempt to grab the door and swing it shut, and the soldier’s claw raked across Othar’s chest, leaving him bellowing in pain. The other soldiers were swarming toward them, and Adam felt Lilith’s hand on his shoulder. He risked one moment to glance at her, smiling reassuringly, and saw a spark of excitement behind the fear in her eyes. She’d missed these adventures, just a bit. So had he.

The wasps reached them, and both of them reached out to grab one, swinging them against the bulkhead and moving so they were fighting back-to-back. Ahead of them, Othar shouted at the bugs, fighting against the claws pinning him. They would have to get to him, if they were to stand a chance.

* * *

Krosp caught up with Agatha on her way through the halls, appearing beside her from the vents. “Are we escaping now?” he asked. “Excellent. Good usage of chaos. Heading for Hanger Q? You’ll want to take a left up here to detour around the Baron and his flunkies.”

“Well…” Agatha took his advice on the route, and braced herself for his reaction to her news. “We are going to the hangar, but… I wouldn’t exactly call it escaping?”

He flicked his tail and stared at her. “What is that supposed to mean? Did you do something stupid without asking me?”

“No! Well, maybe. Probably. Hard to tell without more empirical data. I’ll let you know when the experiment is done.”

“Agatha. Stop whatever foolishness this is. I am sworn to keep you safe.”

“I know! But… you can’t do it alone, can you?” She didn’t want to hurt his pride, but… “I know you’ll do your best, and I know you think leaving is the way to go, but… I’ve heard a little about what happens to Sparks, most places. Out in the Wastelands especially. The idea of facing that scares me more than staying, frankly.”

“It can’t be worse than here! I can’t believe…” He ran a paw over his face, and twitched his whiskers back into place. “All right. What, exactly, are you planning?”

She kept walking for a moment, a stiff, embarrassed expression on her face. “…I agreed to marry Gilgamesh Wulfenbach,” she said in a small voice, bringing her hands up to fiddle with her ring.

“You _what_?!”

“He was so sincere about it! Really seemed to want to keep me safe!”

“Safely under his thumb! He’s just trying to tie you to his father tightly you won’t be able to escape!”

Agatha turned another corner, thinking that over. “No… I don’t think that’s it. Nobody the Baron cares about would even _notice_ if he just… took me, threw me into a prison or onto an operating table immediately. I certainly couldn’t do anything about it. Offering to marry me is a weird way to go about capturing me, right?”

“…It does give you a lot more potential political power than you’d otherwise have access to,” Krosp said. “Draws attention to you, as well, which makes it harder to pretend you don’t exist. But it’s still… It leaves you in the Baron’s reach. What if he changes his mind, decides to study you? He’ll core your brain!”

“…I’m hoping Gil will stop him, if he tries.” She twisted the ring again. It fit like it was made to, which was something of a miracle when she considered its source.

Krosp hissed. “Have you forgotten Poppa? What he did to him? I can’t lose you, too, you’re the only subject that listens to me! You should damn well listen now!”

“Krosp,” she said, delicately. “What do you know of Vapnoople’s past projects? Before the Baron started studying him, I mean.”

“Well…” Krosp curled his arms around himself. “Not much. They don’t leave those files around. I was made here, and the Baron had already _gotten_ to him by the time I was more than a kitten. I just remember… Him trying to build something, and failing, and failing again…”

Agatha tried to ignore the way her heart twisted at those words. “Gil said he was dangerous,” she said. “ _Very_ dangerous. He said that Vapnoople was lucky the Baron left him alive at all, after the harm he’d done.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Krosp said. “Of course he’s going to lie to you about that. Even if he’s sincere about wanting to marry you, he’d me _more_ than willing to sweep any atrocities his father’s complicit in under the rug. You can’t trust his word.”

“Of course not! I told him I wanted proof. That’s what he went to get. I’ll read it on the airship.”

Krosp hissed again, folding his hands behind his back. “Fine,” he said abruptly. “I’ll want to see it as well. I’m coming.”

“….And reveal yourself to Gil? Just like that?”

“I’ll be in _disguise_. Just say I’m a cat who’s been following you around. I’ll sit on your lap while you read.”

She nodded. “All right, if you think it’s safe.” She hesitated, and they walked in silence for a moment. “Listen…” she said. “I know this might be foolish, but… The way things are going, I think it is my best chance, you know?”

Krosp didn’t answer for a long moment. “Your best chance is to stick with me,” he said, as they entered the hangar.

Agatha smiled. “With any luck, this’ll make that easier. Now, how much do you know about prepping an airship?”

The glare Krosp gave her let her know that she wasn’t forgiven and that he still didn’t approve. But the chance to boss her around was irresistible, so in the end he just twitched his tail, jumped up on to the railing, and got down to his favorite business of issuing commands. 


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow I forgot that I was intending this to be a light, breezy thing where I didn't worry too much about editing it and spent like four months nitpicking three phrases. Whoops. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for the lovely comments that I have responded to in no way at all – I appreciate any and all feedback! 
> 
> CWs regarding the whole Vapnoople situation in the end notes.

The gas was topped off and all the engines were beginning to warm up before Gil appeared, with an armful of reports and Wooster. Agatha looked up, saw that he still had that goofy grin on his face, and looked back down, heart hammering. She had to keep her reasons for this straight. And while her opinion of Gilgamesh Wulfenbach’s face and the stupid things he did with it was not _irrelevant_ , it was not the _reason_. She took a few deep breaths and looked back around.

Krosp was sitting on the bench of the ship, appearing to sleep, but she could see one slitted eye keeping a watch on the newcomers.

“Are you almost ready?” Gil called. “I hope you don’t mind if I bring Wooster — I thought we should have at least one witness from the Castle.”

“Oh! Not at all. It’s good to see you, Mr. Wooster.” She dropped her eyes to the packet of papers in Gil’s arms. “And that’s the evidence?” she asked, hardly knowing what to expect.

“Yes. Well… You asked for _independent_ evidence, and I don’t exactly have a way to provide that. I mean, it’s as impartial as my father’s scientists can make it, but it’s still… I mean, you still have to take my father’s claims on faith, ultimately.”

Agatha noticed Krosp’s eyes opening, at that, and fixing themselves on Gil.

“Hmm,” she said, neutrally. “I’ll have to see how I feel. Meanwhile, can you look over my preparations?” She glanced around at the airship. “I’ve only ever read about this kind of thing.” Krosp had more experience, of course, but it was still all secondhand.

Gil nodded. “I’m sure what you did will be fine,” he said, “but I absolutely can. Here, Wooster, give these to her, would you?” He dumped all the files into his manservant’s hands — leaving them teetering precariously — and went around to the back of the airship, humming.

Wooster expertly stabilized the stack, and climbed up into the gondola. As he bent to put the files on the seat next to her, he paused. “Miss Clay?” he said, in a low undertone, “I do not know the particulars of this arrangement, but rest assured, if you are being coerced or pressured in any undue manner, you need only give me a sign. You have my word, I will do my utmost to get you to safety.”

She looked at him in surprise. Behind him, she saw Krosp pick up his head to do the same. She didn’t see anything in Wooster’s face but grave concern. “…Thank you, Mr. Wooster, but I do believe this is the best choice.” She glanced around, slightly, and spoke even lower. “Would your offer still hold after the ceremony? If I change my mind later?”

As she finished speaking, Gil came climbing up into the gondola. Mr. Wooster stepped back and bowed, impeccably. “Of course, Miss Clay. I hope the documents will be of use, and that you let me know if I can be of service in any other way.”

His expression was perfectly polite, but he held her eyes a heartbeat too long for it to be a casual statement.

“Everything looked fine,” Gil said, into the moment of tension. “I think we’re ready to… Why is there a cat here?”

Krosp turned his head to stare at Gil, then licked his paw. He did not look like he had much practice with it.

“Oh, he’s been following me around,” she said. “I call him Krosp.”

“How did a cat get onto the Castle?” Gil asked, blankly. “Do we need to worry about an infestation?”

Agatha shrugged, trying to keep a casual expression. “Maybe a crewman smuggled him on? I’ve had too much going on to think about it much.”

Gil looked between the two of them, then glanced at Wooster, who was watching with a perfectly stoic expression. Finally, Gil gave up. “I guess we do have better things to worry about,” he said. He turned to the controls, loosing the mooring-line, and adjusting some levers. They drifted away from the main Castle smoothly, almost imperceptibly. Agatha looked back, marveling again at the size of the main Castle. So much had happened since she’d last seen the outside of it. She felt so very different, now, and yet the sight of it still filled her with the same awe.

She turned away deliberately, and pulled the files a little closer, sorting through all the stacks. Initial risk assessment, a file labeled “Extradition Demands”, an entire stack of lab reports from the study itself, a handful of eyewitness accounts and past life records. It looked like every piece of information the Wulfenbachs had ever had on Dimitri Vapnoople, splayed out for her perusal. She glanced at Gil, and met his eyes for a brief moment before he looked back at the controls. She looked back down, and found Krosp curling up in her lap. He inspected the list of files, and then put his paw firmly down on the one labeled “Risk Assessment”. Agatha put one hand on his head, scratching briefly, and reached over to open up that folder. It was a stack of sheets, maybe fifty pages in total, fastened together with split pins. She paged through a table of contents and title pages, and found the introduction, a summary of the contents by Boris Dolokhov.

_DimitriVapnoople has spent many, many years establishing a reputation as a name to be feared more than respected. His biological constructs are superb, from a technical standpoint, and fulfill their purpose with admirable loyalty. It is unfortunate that their purpose inevitably leads to widespread destruction of innocent life. He seems able to grant intelligence to nearly any creature, and simultaneously to warp their thoughts purely toward destruction and chaos, in defiance of any and all natural peaceful tendencies._

_His history left us with little doubt about his suitability as a research project. Reports of his past projects, both collected from our archives and provided by Her Britannic Majesty, served to establish our baseline of his potential as a Spark. Further interviews, conducted by preeminent minds including Baron Wulfenbach, Sun Jen-djieh. All recommendations contained something near enough the language “too dangerous to let live” to make no difference, except for one, which was filled with direct praise for Vapnoople’s methods, goals, and moral code. This scientist’s access to the prisoner was immediately revoked and they were placed under observation until this influence had faded, at which point the scientist sought for Vapnoople’s immediate execution._

_Considering the subject’s dangerous nature established, and signs of a strong Spark clearly demonstrated, the next analysis focused on the risks inherent in keeping such a mind contained. Pages 40-58 contain that risk assessment._

The rest of the introduction was barely more than a table of contents, it looked like. Agatha flipped past it to skim the interviews, mostly to see if anything drastically contradicted Mr. Solokhov’s summary rather than for any of the detail. She did note the names — she recognized many of them from coursework or Dr. Beetle’s correspondence. Were they aware of the Baron’s pet project, or had they been brought in under false pretenses? Regardless… The picture they laid out was so far from the distraught, kindly man that she’d known it was hard to believe. Loath as she was to admit it, she was beginning to think that maybe he’d deserved… Well, no. He hadn’t deserved what had happened to him. _Nobody_ did. But maybe it hadn’t been quite so _un_ just as she’d thought.

She heard a low growl, and realized that Krosp was quivering beside her, eyes locked on the page. She couldn’t tell which part had his attention — the rant about how everyone not strong enough deserved to die, or the scientist’s observations afterward about how the lobotomy would go. She had a sharp moment of empathy for him. No matter what he felt, it’d be terrible to learn this while unable to verbalize his reaction. Whether he was questioning everything about his creation or incensed by what had been done to him… It was a bad way to find out.

But he was staring intently at the pile of reports beside her, now, so she wouldn’t deny him the knowledge, however cruel it felt. She pulled them into her lap and opened them up, diving into the timeline of turning Vapnoople into Dr. Dim.

They were chilling. She couldn’t figure out which was worse: the glimpses into Vapnoople’s personality or the clinical description of the utter destruction of his brain. She got all the way into the aftermath of the fourth surgery, when they started to see the effects on his work, before it all got too much and she suddenly slammed the folder shut and stood, pacing as far away as the tiny gondola would let her. She gripped the rail and breathed, trying to control the budding panic.

After a moment, she felt someone come to stand beside her, and glanced to see Gil. He watched her with a worried expression. He didn’t speak.

She took a deep breath before she said anything. “I understand why your father felt this was the humane option,” she said, carefully. “And maybe it was. But—“ She thought back, to that one shining moment in the middle of chaos, when she’s started to hum and felt the universe fall into place around her, when she’d been able to _work_ like she’d always dreamed of, when the pattern of the materials in front of her fell into place and she could just see how everything would come together… “If I turn out like that, too dangerous to leave alive unless you take out my brain? Promise me you’ll execute me, Gil.”

He looked startled, and reached out one hand to put over hers. “You wouldn’t! I mean, everything you’ve done so far has been so controlled, compared to just about every other breakthrough I’ve ever heard of.”

“Even yours? I mean, you seriously haven’t build _any_ weapons?”

Gil looked a little embarrassed. “I guess it always seemed pointless? There were always so many available if I wanted any.”

Agatha gave him a doubtful look. “You really think those are good enough to trust your life to? Besides, available where? Certainly not in your lab!”

“Okay, okay, I admit I messed up a bit on that. I’ll put something in there, I promise. Although the electrified swords you designed were a great start.” He leaned on the railing, staring at her, admiration clear.

Agatha shrugged self-consciously. “I could’ve done better.”

“With the amount of time you had? Under the pressure you were working? It was… It was nothing short of amazing Agatha. The way you just… I mean, there was a problem, and then there wasn’t, just like that.”

She was quiet. She stared out at the landscape far, far below them, and then said “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” Gil said.

“Why this?” It sounded unexpectedly vulnerable, she thought. She hadn’t meant it to. “Why did you choose this, of everything you could’ve done?”

She didn’t dare look, but it took Gil a long moment before he asked “…To protect you, you mean?

She nodded.

“Well,” he said, sounding embarrassed, “I mean… It is the easiest way. Clear, unambiguous, marks you as under protection without removing the freedom you’ve been used to.”

She almost scoffed at the idea of her past life being free, but aloud she just said “I see why it works. But from your perspective? I mean, there have to be more attractive prospects for the heir to an empire than me. I mean, I’m just a disgraced secretary from a minor town. Shouldn’t you be thinking of politics or something?”

Gil shrugged, making a face. “My father would certainly like me to. He was making noises about it, in fact. But…” He dipped his face, maybe to hide the blush that was creeping up around his ears. “I… Look, I’ve spent time in universities and in the center of the Empire and with half the greatest families of the realm and… I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but half the time I feel like nobody around can keep up with me at all. Not when I really get going, anyway. I’ve met fewer than half a dozen sparks that could understand my designs with less than a week of time, let alone improve it. And you? Your work on my flying machine speaks for itself. In your _sleep_ you were coming up with designs I’m still struggling to work out. I…” He stopped, and fiddled with something on the bannister. “I know we haven’t known each other for long, but I think our characters might be well-suited. Even if we aren’t… I know I’ll enjoy working with you, and if you aren’t a political asset, at least you aren’t a threat, either.” He shrugged, blushing even harder. “I guess… I never thought I’d get a chance to marry someone I really respected, you know? And now…”

Agatha was dumbstruck The idea that Gil wanted her around because he _respected_ her was more than she knew how to parse. She’d spent so long thinking of herself as somebody no one wanted around, really, somebody that was just there to mess everything up. And now… She turned her head away from the intensity of his gaze. “Oh,” she said, finally.

“But like I said,” he continued, sounding worried suddenly, “I don’t want to pressure you, really! If you decide you can’t stand me—“

“Keep saying such nice things,” she said, and her voice was almost steady, “and you won’t have to worry about that idea.”

He smiled at her radiantly. He was doing that a lot, recently.

It took away her breath every single time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning for canon-compliant discussion of lobotomizing prisoners, language which is intended to justify this act. In response to this, Agatha expresses a wish to die rather than ever having this done to her.


End file.
